


The Gardens of the Night

by phoenixflight



Category: The Goblin Emperor - Katherine Addison
Genre: Adolescent Sexuality, Blow Jobs, Cousin Incest, M/M, Masturbation, Merry Month of Masturbation Challenge, Sexual Fantasy, Unrequited Crush, slight exhibitionism, truly this fic is very wholesome
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-19
Updated: 2020-05-19
Packaged: 2021-03-02 19:49:08
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 875
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24272365
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/phoenixflight/pseuds/phoenixflight
Summary: Idra's mind wanders.
Relationships: Idra Drazhar/Maia Drazhar
Comments: 8
Kudos: 22
Collections: The Goblin Emperor Filthfest 2020





	The Gardens of the Night

**Author's Note:**

> The title is a nod to Wm Blake's The Tyger.  
> This fic is exactly what it says on the tin! Mind the tags and have fun!

Idra undressed himself for bed. In the normal course of things, once he had grown too old to be dressed by his nurse he ought to have been tended by the household edocharei who served his parents. However, those servants who had not died in the crash had been caught up in the dissolution of the household after his mother’s plot came to light, and in the chaos had never been replaced. In six months Idra would be of age, able to establish his own household, but for now he was still sleeping in the drafty Alchethmeret nursery, next door to his sisters, and braiding his hair into its nighttime queue himself. 

He didn’t mind. Cousin Maia had more important things to concern himself with than who was brushing Idra’s hair at night. 

Idra slid between the chilly sheets, wiggling his toes to find the shock of heat from the warming pan. He hugged himself, squirming a little, feeling his thighs rubbing together. The fine cotton of his nightshirt whispered against his skin. He was wide awake, tingling with a heightened awareness of his body. It was often thus, at night and in the morning particularly, sometimes, mortifyingly in the middle of the day. Idra found himself frequently distracted, fanciful. And what fantasies they were…

That afternoon Idra had been walking in the garden with Cousin Maia among the snowdrops and crocuses and Maia had laughed at something, his whole face softening and brightening and Idra had thought suddenly, vividly, of kissing him. It was not the first time such thoughts had occurred, nor was it Idra’s first infatuation, but it was unique in its intensity and the potential for embarrassment. 

It was simply that Maia was so earnest and so kind, with a sharp sense of humor when he allowed himself to jest. He treated Idra as an equal, which no one near his own age had ever had the rank to do. 

Squeezing his eyes shut he rolled over onto his stomach and pressed his face into the pillow, feeling the pleasant pressure intensify in his groin. 

The four years between them seemed both a vast distance in which Cousin Maia had grown from the awkwardness of youth which still engulfed Idra into the elegant beauty of young adulthood, and at the same time, his isolated upbringing made Maia sometimes say or ask things that made Idra feel very much the elder of the two. And all of it was tangled up with Maia’s sculpted lips and long fingers. Idra was growing rapidly hard.

He thought again of the garden, of long walks as the days grew warmer and the sound of Maia’s laughter on the gentle breeze. Idra imagined their walk taking them to some secluded bower of branches and flowers. He knew several such places from childhood games of hide-and-seek. Cousin Maia would duck his head so shyly, and in his fantasy it made Idra bold, though he’d never yet kissed anyone. He kissed his emperor gracefully and skillfully, and made Maia moan against his lips. Maia would clutch him closer, hands on Idra’s hips, or arms, or perhaps cupped behind his head. 

Idra muffled a noise in the pillow, rubbing his hips down against the mattress. The cotton of his nightshirt was getting wet where the head of his cock was leaking. In the way of dreams and fantasies his thoughts skipped and transformed. They were on a bed, rumpled white sheets, and Maia was sprawled out before him, half dressed. Biting his lip Idra imagined the strain of Maia’s cockstand through his robe, feeling his own cock throb in response. Idra wanted - stars, he wanted Maia to  _ want him. _ Wanted Maia urgent with it, needy and flushed, tugging Idra on top of him. They would grind together just like Idra was thrusting his hips against the bed, Idra’s fingers tangled in Maia’s thick curls instead of the sheets, pushing their clothes aside - straddling Maia’s lap, or bending over him and taking him in his mouth. 

Idra shuddered, feeling heat coiling into a fist at the root of his cock. He wasn’t sure he would actually enjoy such a thing, the vulnerability and indignity of it, but imagining it made his whole body pulse. To have Maia leaking and hard on his tongue, hot with blood. The noises he might make - little whimpers and moans, as reticent in bed as he was in the rest of his affairs. Idra wanted to make him forget himself, to shout loud enough that anyone might hear. 

He had forgotten the nohecharei, Idra realized. They would always be watching the Imperial coupling - Idra’s father had joked about it once to Mother, when he did not realize Idra was listening. The idea of someone seeing him sucking Maia, making him moan, showing them that he could make Maia lose control, make Maia spend... 

The thought hit Idra abruptly, his climax wracking through him all at once. He gasped into the pillows, hips jolting as he spilled between his belly and the bed. It left him limp and breathless. He had made a mess of his nightshirt, he would have to get up and change. But it was alright. There was no one there to know. 

**Author's Note:**

> Comments are love!


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